When I was young some decades ago
Invincible youth, little did I know
Thoughts of growing old very far from my mind
Shifting sands in the hour glass always runs blind
(
Though still it flows and still it shows
Justice is blind like petals on a rose
Sand running toward gravitational forces
Never seeing as the end approaches
*
Perhaps it’s good to not knowing the future
But my time is passing, I ‘m an aging creature
Riding each wave with its ebb and flow
Seeing sand wiped clean as each one goes
*
Some say it’s great living long, growing old
But I am not so sure I would be so bold
Young ones want to live to be a hundred
As quality of life fails, time seems to plunder
*
So, as I lay my aging friend to rest, I pause,
take a deep breath, and rethink what’s best.
*
Photo: Phil Roth
Today at d’Verse, Bjorn asked us to consider John Donne’s Heroic Sonnet, The Token, written in (1572 -1631) It is an eighteen-line poem with a set meter to it. He gave us some freedom to create a little variation, while still keeping the form. I am afraid I took a little more freedom that allowed in the meter and flow but tried to keep the structure of the Sonnet as shown.
Today I received a call that a dear friend of mine passed away at the age of 96. His last years were a struggle as age took its toll. This got me to thinking about aging and growing old. So, this was the outcome of those thoughts.
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